


Neither Fought nor Found You

by extentia



Series: Song-Inspired Ficlets [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:28:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extentia/pseuds/extentia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't think his hubris as ugly as everyone he knew seemed to find it. He just knew there was no alternative to the desire for power. Few seemed to get that, to really get the depth of the need. It was both suffocating and extreme, dissolving upon his limbs, dragging him downward until there is no option but to clasp his fists around any given opportunity. It was befitting, that in some way, how hubris in the Greek tragedies led to creation of enemies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neither Fought nor Found You

**Author's Note:**

> Honeymoon, by Lana Del Rey. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oPU8XJcA__k

    Peter spent a lot of time out, walking, alone. The people he passed on the street were silent. He got the wisps of emotions contained in their outward nothingness: desire, envy, confusion, nervousness. It was what he got wherever he went.

  
    It probably didn't help that he did nothing to dissuade anyone's opinions of himself, save very rarely when it mattered. He didn't have an opportunity within his pack. It wasn't really even his pack. Only his strenuous ties to Derek keep him from dropping to Omega status. He knows this. It's hard to not know how tedious his hold on power is.

  
    He didn't think his hubris as ugly as everyone he knew seemed to find it. He just knew there was no alternative to the desire for power. Few seemed to get that, to really get the depth of the need. It was both suffocating and extreme, dissolving upon his limbs, dragging him downward until there is no option but to clasp his fists around any given opportunity. It was befitting, that in some way, how hubris in the Greek tragedies led to creation of enemies.

  
    How had he forgotten how small the body can shrink when faced with adversity? How has he lost the plot so completely?

  
    In Lydia's head, he found no comfort. It was a sick place, a girl grasping for the adulthood unallowed. He couldn't keep track of it all, no matter the distance he employed between the two of them. The girl who punched a mirror upon seeing her face one morning... or was that him who punched, upon seeing he was stuck inside of the girl's psyche?

  
    Three too many Barbituates, graduated to five, to a haze of living in between trying far too hard to succeed. In between therapists visits and classroom hallucinations, he found, finally, the closest link you can have between individuals. Let's share the same thoughts, the same head. When does what I think become your thoughts? At what point does the separation cease?

  
    He lost weight, he realized belatedly, one morning, fresh out of the shower. The pack - what pack? Scott's pack? - the pack was in their senior year when it became obvious. Was he self-destructing? Was there any reason to particularly care?

  
    He started to cruise out of Beacon Hills, down the main highway, listening to jazz and blues. It was too satisfying. There was never anybody to account for, and he never had a person to check in with. Even when Talia was the Alpha, she put in effort to connect and share the tangible affection of the bond she had with every one of them. But Scott didn't get that, or he didn't care. And why should he care about Peter least of all? It wasn't enough to say that he deserved it anymore.

  
    But Peter did deserve love. He deserved affection and touching and kind words, even if it had to be from someone he didn't particularly respect. It was basic. It was the correct pack etiquette. Even if he didn't outright spell it out to the bumbling fool, Derek ought to have done it.

  
    But then, Derek was still gluttonous for punishment. His imagined faults aside, he did have an instrumentous affect on the death of the Hale pack. Of course, he wouldn't beg upon Scott for warmth. Peter wouldn't do it on principle. It would be akin to admittance of failure on his part. After all, how much could you ask of someone you tried to kill? How much could you expect from that relationship?

  


    You bit the boy. You took away everything he could have been. Granted, you probably saved him years of suffering and an eventual asthma attack that probably would have cost him his life. But he never saw that. He couldn't understand, couldn't grasp that the bite was a gift. It was the gift. It was paramount to evolution and enlightenment. There was never a moment where anyone dared to thank Peter. There was never a time when someone lifted their hands up to their bosom and begged their thanks to their gods that Peter did them a favor. It was disheartening.

  
    It seemed that no matter what is was Peter did, it was the wrong thing. No amount of explaining it away, no matter how accurate his analyzation of the threat or of the theory of attack could break through the careful barricade of teenagers between reality and the idealized viewpoint Scott employed as rule.

  
    He wasn't lonely, he was just an outsider. He was on the outskirts of every pack meeting from before Allison's demise, to after his release from Eichen House.

  
    Nobody inquired of him much. They double- even triple-checked all the information he gave out. He wanted to ask, why did they not trust his information? Afterall, he was part of the pack he was protecting. But he knew the answer to his asinine question the moment after he asked it. 


End file.
